


Sweet (when you really get to know him)

by Anonymous



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Female Alpha, Kayfabe Compliant, Knotting, Other, PWP, Size Difference, mentions of Paul Heyman, partially clothed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22572829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the summer of the conqueror, and the Beast is in heat.” Paul Heyman, 8/15/16.Sometimes, the Beast is in heat. Other times, it's just for fun.
Relationships: Bayley | Davina Rose/Brock Lesnar
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20
Collections: Anonymous





	Sweet (when you really get to know him)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RobinTrigue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTrigue/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Summer of the Hugger](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7910365) by [RobinTrigue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTrigue/pseuds/RobinTrigue). 



> First, if you haven't yet, go read "The Summer of the Hugger". It's good as hell and required reading to understand anything that's going on here.
> 
> That original fic includes a merciful fade to black, but as we all know it's 2020 and God is Dead. This is not that scene in particular, but I think it is still fulfilling my long standing threat to write Brock/Bayley ABO smut that absolutely no one has been asking for.

Brock stood in the house. 

He was accustomed to entering stasis when he waited for Paul to collect and transport him from location to location. For Brock, the few times each year when he was required to determine the best possible way to dismember his opponents were some of the only times that his body and mind were not downshifted into their default mode of near complete stasis. Except for the basic parasympathetic nervous system functions that were needed to sustain life, his brain would go completely blank. But Brock's brain was not blank as he stood in the house.

Brock stared out the window.

Bayley was working on her bicycle. It was early enough in the day that the side yard was still mostly in shadow, but Bayley was sitting in the patch of sunlight with her back to him, cross-legged on the ground as she cleaned the bike chain. People did not just turn their backs on Brock Lesnar, the Beast Incarnate, but Bayley did. As an evolved predator with extremely keen eyesight, Brock could see the minute details of the scene even at a distance. The way that the muscles of Bayley's shoulders and back flexed smoothly as she worked. The scuffs on her knuckles as she reached back to grab the rag that had been hanging out of the back pocket of her overalls. The light, reflecting off of her eyes when she turned and caught him staring at her through the glass.

Brock turned and fled.

He made it as far as the kitchen before he remembered that fleeing was of no use. Bayley was immensely powerful and she would be able to catch him easily even if he ran. Brock froze and looked down and from the tumult of his mind came the idea that he could pretend to be busy at the sink. He twisted one of the handles and watched as water began to fill the empty basin, but it was no use. He knew that Bayley had already seen him staring and she would be able to destroy him effortlessly if that was her will.

Brock was still at the sink a few minutes later when Bayley came inside through her garage. She wiped her hands on a rag as she kicked her shoes off on the mat by the door.

"Hi Brock! How's it going?"

Brock grunted.

"I thought we did the dishes earlier. Is everything -"

Brock grunted again and shifted his weight, caught. 

"Oh." Bayley said, and a knowing grin crossed her voice. Brock watched as she tucked the greasy rag into the front pocket of her bibs, and then he felt the tips of his ears going even redder as Bayley ambled towards him. "Well, I was just wondering if you needed any help."

"No." 

Brock ducked his head to stare down at where his hands were submerged up to the wrists in clear water, so he wouldn't have to look at Bayley as he lied. Every breath he took flooded his senses with the smell of her alpha pheromones and he tilted his head to the side to expose the line of his neck to the unseen.

Bayley was behind Brock then, a hand that traced down the line of his spine before both of her arms reached around Brock's wide body so that she could draw him close. Even after all this time he still froze, anticipating the attack that never came. Although she didn't even come up to his shoulder, Brock knew that if she wanted to Bayley could suplex him easily, could throw him to the floor. He wouldn't have a choice if his Alpha wanted to destroy him, but she never did.

"You don't want any help… are you sure?" Bayley asked. 

"No." Brock said again, honest this time. 

"Do you want it?"

Brock nodded.

"You're not too sore from before?"

Brock shook his head, face beet red and burning. Nobody was ever gentle with Brock. Except for Bayley. She was gentle with her words and with her body and Brock strained towards that gentleness like a flower towards the sun.

"Well you should turn the sink off, then." Bayley said "It's not good to waste water."

Bayley mouthed at Brock's back through the fabric of his shirt as he twisted the tap, spread her feet a little wider as she hugged him tight and rolled her hips against the back of Brock's thigh. Brock felt her starting to get hard and his body was flooded with a tingling rush of need that Brock had never known to fulfill until his first heat had overwhelmed him. It had awoken something inside of Brock. Although Brock was a man well acquainted with his own primal instincts, this desire was something that he had never encountered before he had been mated to Bayley.

(Bayley said that they weren't mated. 

She had never bit him, even when he had broken down and begged while he had been in the throes of his first heat. And all of the heats since. But Brock knew, in the part of his brain that wasn't solely dedicated to murder, that she was the only alpha that he would ever take. Brock just had to hope that one day he could prove that he was good enough. Worthy of her mark. Maybe one day she would even breed him and-)

"The - " Brock's mind went blank as Bayley released the hug so that she could use both hands to push Brock's athletic shorts down around his knees. The cool air was a sudden shock on his skin as he tried again, struggling to speak "Paul..."

"Won't be here to pick you up for a while yet. We'll have to be quick but there's enough time, if you want me to fuck you again."

Brock nodded as he quivered like a leaf in the wind. He wasn't in heat anymore, the frenzy had broken hours ago, but the way that his heart was pounding made him feel like he was deep in the throes of it again. Although Brock was not predisposed to thought (much less considerations of whether or not kitchen quickies were considered risque) he _was_ keenly aware of the fact that he was all but begging for it without even having the heat to blame. But Bayley didn't seem to mind, just like she didn't mind the sheer mass of Brock's body or that he had no real idea how to please an alpha or the way that he went red whenever Bayley said anything even slightly sexual.

"You smell really nice, Brock. Are you - my hands are still kinda gross from working on the bike, are you wet enough?"

Like that. 

Brock nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, but he leaned forward at the edge of the sink, his head down against one of his forearms on the counter as he braced on the ceramic edge, and pressed back against Bayley to try and show her how ready he was, how eager for her knot.

"Yeah, Brock, that's nice. But I meant that you should finger yourself." Bayley patted his flank as she said it, like that was just a thing people could say. "I mean, I could just wash my hands. Oh, or I could eat you out! But I think I'd like to watch you this time… Brock? Are you okay?"

Brock groaned as he reached back with one hand to shove his underwear down just far enough so that he could press one finger into himself without any hesitation. He was still tender from their repeated couplings during his heat but he was already so wet that he was dripping. Even Brock's meaty finger slid in like it was nothing. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, and Brock quickly followed that first finger with a second, then a third as his entire body broke out into sweat.

Bayley praised him as she watched. Told Brock how good it looked, how good he was being, that he was good. A good boy. Her actual words were nowhere near that repetitive but that was the central point, the idea that Brock clung to as he worked himself open, made sure that he was ready for his alpha. Knowing that Bayley was watching him with approval made Brock squirm even more than the slick that trailed down his thighs or the way that his fingers pressed inside himself.

Bayley stepped back and there was a dissonant metal jangling as she unclasped her overalls and let them fall to the floor. Brock startled at the sound and a base whimper escaped him as he hurried to pull his slick fingers out of his hole. He was a force of unstoppable violence in the ring, but here his body was sensitive and needy and _empty_. But not for long.

Brock never had much use for words, but the words that Bayley said to him were different. Those words were everything, all consuming, the only things that mattered even if they were the opposite of the blood and violence that usually consumed his life. Just her praise was enough to lay him low, even before Bayley braced one hand against the tattoo on Brock's lower back as she fucked him open, rolling her hips as she drove her cock into him in a ceaseless, perfect rhythm. She had said that it would have to be quick, but Bayley mounted Brock with such a focused intensity that Brock felt like everything seemed to slow down and draw out and last forever.

The rhythm shifted into a slow grind as Bayley pressed herself into Brock, rutted against him, and her hands held his hips tight as she mouthed at his back and told him that she liked it, liked having him like this. He could feel it when her knot started to swell inside of him and it was so much, it was still so much even after all the times that she had tied him before, that Brock had to reach down to tug at himself. He couldn't help it, and his hand was still so slippery with his own slick that the feel of it pushed him over the edge and shocked a thought back into his fucked out brain as he wondered if that was what it had felt like for Bayley, when Brock had gotten down on his knees and sucked her cock. If it had been that wet and good for Bayley when she had put her hands on his head to guide him through it, so slow and gentle, because Bayley has asked what he wanted and Brock, made honest by the heat hormones, had finally been able to admit that he wanted her to fuck every single one of his wet holes.

**Author's Note:**

> R.I.P. any sense of decency I ever may have had.
> 
> I'm so sorry for everything. But I'm especially sorry that the world just isn't ready for Brock Lesnar getting his ass ate, ayooooo. Maybe in another four years.


End file.
